Elizabeth knew that a relationship was about giving and receiving and, in the beginning, hers had been that way too. But over the past few months since they had set out to find Jack Sparrow at World's End, she and Will's relationship had deteriorated with neither willing to give nor receive.
She couldn't remember the last time she had actually spoken to him for more than a few seconds at a time and she couldn't imagine it ever going back to normal, the way it was before Cutler Beckett had shown up on the day of their wedding and ruined everything.
She stood at the edge of the boat they had picked up in Singapore, hearing the crew move about behind her. Ahead of her lay endless stretches of sea, the stars glaring brightly in their reflection. The only disturbance to the water this far north was the water breaking off the bow as the boat separated the calm waters.
No one had said anything for quite some time now, not even Pintel or Ragetti.
There was a time, not so many years ago, when she had fantasised about pirating, about being an outlaw and sailing the high seas. There had always been a certain romanticism that had drawn her to the books and then eventually to the sea. But the reality of it had not quite lived up to her expectations.
A sailor's relationship with the sea, she realised, was much akin to any other relationship. There was a great deal of giving to the sea - time, energy and sometimes even love - all so they could receive a freedom that was becoming more and more elusive. It pained her to think about the tightening noose around the neck of pirating and she couldn't help but think of Jack in that moment. He had given her his loyalty by returning to help them fight the Kraken and what had he received? Betrayal.
She'd shackled him to the ship and left him to die.
She knew that it was the only thing that could be done, the only thing that would save her and the crew because he seemed oblivious to the fact that Davy Jones' monster wanted him and not the Pearl.
And that was another strange form of relationship, where Jack had given his soul to Davy Jones so the sea devil could give him back his ship. She wondered how a ship could mean that much to anyone, no matter how beautiful or fast.
But she also knew that the Pearl wasn't just a ship to Jack but his freedom. He'd given his life to the sea and received the life he wanted from it - although most of the time he had spent it chasing his damn boat.
She wondered if perhaps that was what excited him and why he did keep losing his ship. Was it simply the chase that he gave the Pearl that made him think that he longed for it so much and when he got it he actually meant to lose it again so he could begin the chase all over again?
She didn't know.
All she knew was that she wanted to find out.
When she'd kissed him on the deck of the Black Pearl so many moons ago now, she'd given a part of herself to him. She'd given him the very last of her innocence, of her childhood as the governor's daughter and had received, in return, the title of pirate that she had so longed for. And the fact that it came from Jack... well, she didn't want to think about why it meant so much to her. Maybe it was because he was the epitome of the romanticism of pirating. Yes, he did partake in pillaging and plundering but she knew him to be a good man who simply longed for the freedom the open waters could give him.
She liked to think that he'd given her something too: a look at who Jack Sparrow really was, the good man who had come back to her, returned for the ship and the crew. Even as she shackled him he smiled in understanding, in pride. He'd gotten his chance to be able to taste what the rewards of being a good man were and she'd been able give it to him.
She shook her head and blew hot air out through her parted chapped lips. Her eyes fell on William, the love of her life, and she knew she'd have to give him something soon, in order for her to receive his warmth, his love, once more.
She turned back to the black waters around her and lowered her eyes to the horizon.
But not today.
